


Debutant

by eatingcroutons



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, M/M, hair petting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-24
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-11 16:55:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8999164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eatingcroutons/pseuds/eatingcroutons
Summary: For the kinkmeme prompt: Head ScratchesShameless fluff.





	

Graves never would have expected such a crowd for the launch of a textbook, of all things. It takes him a good fifteen minutes to convince the staff that he’s a guest of the author, and another ten to actually find out where Newt is supposed to be.

When he finally finds Newt backstage, he has to bite his lip to suppress a chuckle. Someone has actually managed to get the man into a three-piece suit. No doubt it’s perfectly tailored, but you’d never guess it from the way Newt shifts uncomfortably in front of the mirror, tugging at his waistcoat, shrugging his shoulders, frowning at his reflection.

Graves steps forward to put his hands on Newt’s shoulders. “You look perfect.”

Newt ducks his head, then looks up to meet Graves’s eyes in the mirror. “It’s not really my usual style.”

Graves grins. “I can tell.” He gives Newt’s shoulders a squeeze, runs his hands down his arms. “Come on then, let me get a look at you.”

He turns Newt around then steps back to properly look him over. The suit is boldly cut, emphasising just the right places to give Newt’s slender frame a more masculine elegance. Newt’s fingers twitch at his sides, cheeks flushing just a little as Graves looks him up and down.

Graves finally meets his eyes and raises an eyebrow. “I have to admit, Mr Scamander, I never thought I’d see the day.”

Newt rolls his eyes. “I’m quite capable of dressing formally, _Mr Graves_ , I just don’t see the point of ruining good clothes in the field.”

Graves chuckles. “Well I can’t argue that you’re dressed very… capably, right now. Although there is one thing…”

“There is?” Newt looks down at his suit, sticking his arms out to inspect them, running his hands over his chest. “What did I forget?”

“Well,” Graves says, stepping forward, “Here in America we have these things called combs, you may have heard of them…” He slides a hand into Newt’s hair, fingers immediately catching on tangles in the soft curls. Newt freezes.

“Ah, Percy, I…”

“Shh. This won’t take a minute.” Graves gently tugs his fingers through the tangles, working them loose, then repeats the motion. Newt stays perfectly still as Graves slides fingers over his scalp, careful not to pull too sharply. On the third or fourth time Newt sighs softly, swaying forward a little. Graves pauses, and tilts Newt’s head back to meet his eyes.

Newt blinks up at him with half-lidded eyes, a blissful smile on his face. Graves tightens his fingers in Newt’s hair, just a little, and Newt’s eyes slip shut entirely, lips parting on another sigh.

Graves cups Newt’s cheek with his other hand, running a thumb over his cheekbone. “Well. You’re just full of surprises today, aren’t you?”

Newt’s smile twists into a lopsided grin, and he opens his eyes again. “Are you going to fix my hair for me or not?”

Graves shakes his head, grinning back. “Why do I even put up with you?” But even as he says it he’s sliding his hand back through Newt’s hair. When he scrapes his fingernails down the nape of Newt’s neck, Newt gasps and clutches at his jacket.

“Hmm.” Graves rubs his fingertips over the back of Newt’s head. “Maybe I should stop before this gets inappropriate.” Newt makes an unintelligible noise, pressing his head back into Graves’s touch, and Graves chuckles again. “Although as always, you’re making it hard to keep track of what’s appropriate.” He uses his fingernails again, just to make Newt gasp.

“Mr Scamander?” A woman’s voice echoes from the hallway, and Graves just has time to step back from Newt before one of the theatre staff sticks her head around the corner. “Mr Scamander, we need you on stage in five minutes.”

“Ah.” Newt blinks, straightening his shoulders. “Yes, of course. Thank you. I’ll be right there.” The woman flashes a quick thumbs-up then disappears.

Graves reaches out to brush the bangs off Newt’s forehead. “Are you sure you’ll be ready in time? Your hair’s still a mess.” In fact it’s even worse than it was before, thanks to Graves.

Newt raises an eyebrow, then reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out a comb. He turns back to the mirror and with half a dozen brisk strokes, actually manages to get his hair looking halfway decent. Graves stares for a moment, then laughs out loud.

“All right. Well done. Now you really do look perfect.” He leans in to press a kiss to Newt’s temple. “I’d better go find my seat. Go, tell the people all about your fantastic beasts.”

Newt beams at him in the mirror, and Graves feels the warmth of that smile spread through his chest. He resists the urge to ruffle Newt’s hair, instead giving him a quick pat on the ass and a wink before heading into the main auditorium.


End file.
